“Yeah. Whadaboudit? Even your alleged fiancé agreed.”
This is a first. The two of them on the same side? If I had known what a black eye could accomplish, I would’ve gotten one weeks ago.
Sighing, I sniff the milk and pour it down the drain. “I got stir crazy.”
“Did you see my guy following youz?”
“Of course I did.” I didn’t, but under the circumstances, it’s best to stretch the truth.
“Describe him.”
“Fine.” I wander back to the front and peek between the slats. “He’s about thirty, big, and wearing a thick black hoodie. His nose is crooked and he smokes.”
“Nice work. Because of dat, I’ll let you stay. And, I have a date lined up for youz.”
Sighing, I go back in search of food. “Don’t waste his time. My face could launch a thousand ships, in the opposite direction.”
“He might like it. It could be a t’ing. I’ll axe him.”
“You do that. And Uncle Vinny? Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Forgetaboudit. It’s what family does.”
Finding an apple and peanut butter, I make my lunch then send out emails to potential clients. With nothing left to do, I pace, pausing in the bathroom.
Huh. I Google how-to-tile. Before you know it, I’m placing a blunt-nose border across the room, using little red spacers and the lines Suds drew to keep stuff straight.
A couple days later, I mix some grout, and am pretty damn proud of how well it turned out. Then, me and Cat share a beer and watch Netflix to celebrate.
Chapter 11
Suds
I told Samantha I wouldn’t be able to see her until Thursday. However, when Wednesday rolls around and my alcoholic Ukrainian settles in for the night, my need for her outweighs my need for sleep.
I have to see for myself she’s alright and make sweet love to her. First, I should be sure I’m not overly protective and text my best bud.
Me: Got a sec?
Lucky: Sure. What’s shakin’?
Me: Woman troubles. Can I call?
Lucky: Do it.
I push his number and he picks up before the first ring.
“Suds, ya bloody wank-ah.”
“Lucky, you fucking Aussie-bastard.” Still dressed for my day at the United Nations, I pace near the edge of the mattress, look in the mirror, and note the deep circles under my eyes.
“What can I do for you? Still with the Feddie?” His accent gets thicker every time we talk.
“Uh-huh.” I put my pal on speaker so I can remove my dress jacket.
“Wot? She giving you a hard time?”
“If you mean am I hard all the time, then yeah. But that’s not why called. When did you know marriage was the right thing?” After loosening my tie, I pull the noose over my head.
